Thanks, Bob
by Dala1
Summary: This is a sappy R/L movieverse sillyfic that no one but me will probably like. It's the direct result of getting the X-Men movie and too many CDs for Christmas this year.


  
Disclaimer: Rogue and Logan belong to Marvel, Bob Dylan and the Barenaked Ladies belong to themselves and to their record companies.  
Now, I have no proof that Logan and Rogue are Bob Dylan fans, but I am, and it's MY fic, so ther :P Enjoy this silly little thing.  
Extra Note: I made a mistake on the "Third Time's The Charm" fics I just uploaded, in case you've read them; I renamed it for a short while and then went back to the original name and forgot to change it in the Author's Note. So if that was confusing, I apologize.  
  
  
"What is this, anyway?"  
  
Rogue opened her eyes and yawned. "What?" she muttered sleepily into Logan's shoulder.  
  
"This music. What is it?" he repeated.  
  
Sitting up, Rogue looked over at the CD player. "Did I leave that here?" she asked absentmindedly.  
  
"Apparently," Logan said, sitting up beside her and giving the speakers a suspicious look. "Who is it?"  
  
She couldn't help but smile. "You really don't pay any attention to pop culture, do you?" He shrugged, turning his eyes back to her expectantly. "It's the Barenaked Ladies."  
  
Logan frowned. "But . . . they're men."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Yes darlin', I know, it's just a band name. They're Canadian," she added helpfully. Rogue settled back into the pillows as her favorite song off this CD came on---"The Old Apartment". He flopped back down next to her, and she nestled close against his side, tapping the beat on his arm.  
  
"That tickles," Logan protested, grabbing her fingers and holding them. She sang along softly to the music and let him examine her hands, stroking her sensitive wrists and the soft skin on the backs of her palms, seeing how small they were in his own. "It's not that great."  
  
"It's nice and upbeat," she said defensively. "And I like the lyrics."  
  
Logan snorted. "Please. These are child's play. You want to hear a master lyricist, you listen to Bob Dylan."  
  
Rogue sat bolt upright and stared at him. "Are you kidding? I love Dylan!"  
  
"Really? Mind if I change this, then?" He disentangled himself from the bed sheets and leaned over the CD player, leaving her to admire the view.   
  
Checking the back of the case, he set it to play on a certain song. Rogue closed her eyes, expression rapturous, as "Lay, Lady, Lay" met her ears.  
  
Logan stretched out beside her and watched her fingers dance to the music. She had pretty good rhythm. Of course, it didn't matter what she was doing; he could sit and watch her forever.  
  
Leaning in close, he whispered the words in her ear. "His clothes are dirty, but his hands are clean," Logan crooned softly, making her smile. "And you're the best thing that he's ever seen . . ." Despite the words being written by another, there was so much raw emotion and sincerity in his voice that she felt a shiver run down her spine.  
  
"You have a good voice," Rogue murmured, pulling him closer.  
  
"I do?" Logan spoke softly, his fingers twined in her hair.   
  
"Mmhmm," Rogue replied, kissing him. She would have liked to hear him sing some more, but she was much more interested in how he tasted than how he sounded. *Three days,* she thought in wonder. *Three days I've been 'normal', at least with him, and I don't think this feeling could ever stop seeming so new.*   
  
"Why wait any longer for the one you love/when he's standing in front of you," Dylan sang, his words have a deep impact on the lovers buried in their kiss. Logan had never heard so much truth in his life---he'd liked this song before, but it had never had the same meaning as it did when he stood before Rogue, after she'd recovered from her head injuries at Riley's lab, and he'd taken her back to her room. He was more nervous than she was, not wanting to rush things, but as she had explained it, after waiting so long it was cruelty to deny her the slightest touch.  
  
And there had been much more than a slight touch that night, despite his apprehension, and when it was over he knew that his life would never be the same, because he had loved a woman. No matter what else happened to them---and as X-Men, plenty of shit was bound to happen---he knew they would always have this.  
  
Their embrace was broken, much to his frustration, when "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" came on. Rogue sat up in bed, nearly tumbling him to the floor; he sometimes forgot how strong she was. A sob broke in her throat, and he frowned, touching her shoulder lightly. "What is it?" He pushed ' pause' on the stereo remote.  
  
Rogue shook her head, holding back tears. "I haven't heard this song in years . . . Daddy used to sing it to me, when I was little. We would dance around the kitchen, me a little baby in his arms, Mama watching and smilin' . . ." Her accent was particularly thick as she reminisced.   
  
Logan was quiet, watching her fight off the flood of memories. "What did they do, when they found out about your mutation?" he asked finally.  
  
"They . . . thought it was something that could be disciplined out of me. That it was something I could control, as long as I tried hard enough. Oh, they never beat me or anything like that, but I . . . I tried so hard, I really did, but he yelled and yelled at me . . . and then he made me touch his arm, thinking that it had gone away, and I didn't want to, Logan, but I had to, and I almost . . . I nearly killed him. My own father."  
  
He stroked her hair and murmured, "Seems like no one's good enough for you, sweetheart."  
  
Her laugh was almost a choke, and she looked questioningly at Logan when he stood up. He turned the song back on and held out a hand.  
  
Rogue smiled, a strong and beautiful smile, and took it. They danced until the song was over, and then he hit repeat so it would play again.  
  
Rocking gently to the music, his arms wound tight around her, Logan glanced over at the CD case. Thanks, Bob, he said silently to the picture on the front of it.   
  
And for just a second, he could've sworn that the picture winked at him.  
  
  
I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door  
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door  
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door  
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door  
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door . . .  
  
  
Author's Note: Here are the lyrics for the two Dylan songs (I didn't feel like typing out the words to "The Old Apartment :P), just in case someone's interested  
  
Knockin' on Heaven's Door (Bob Dylan)  
  
Mama, take this badge off of me/I can't use it anymore  
It's gettin' dark, too dark to see/I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door  
  
Chorus:  
Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door  
(Repeat 3x)  
  
Mama, put my guns in the ground/I can't shoot them anymore  
That long, black cloud is comin' down/I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door  
  
Chorus  
  
  
Lay, Lady, Lay (Bob Dylan)  
  
Lay, lady, lay/Lay across my big brass bed  
Lay, lady, lay/Lay across my big brass bed  
  
Whatever colors you have  
In your mind  
I'll show them to you, and you'll   
See them shine  
  
Lay, lady, lay/Lay across my big brass bed  
Stay, lady, stay/Stay with your man awhile  
Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile  
  
His clothes are dirty, but his  
His hands are clean  
And you're the best thing that he's  
Ever seen  
  
Stay, lady, stay/Stay with your man awhile  
Why wait any longer for the world to begin?  
You can have your cake and eat it, too  
Why wait any longer for the one you love?  
When he's standing in front of you . . .   
  
Lay, lady, lay/Lay across my big brass bed  
Stay, lady, stay/Stay while the night is still ahead  
  
I long to see you in the  
Morning light  
I long to reach for you  
In the night  
Stay, lady, stay  
Stay while the night is still ahead  



End file.
